And drew the Frogge even to the lake,
Tweedle, &c.
"The Rat ran up the wall,
Humble-dum, &c
A goodly company, the Divell goe with all,
Tweedle, &c."
From what I have shown, the reader will agree with me, that a collector of ballads from oral tradition should possess some acquaintance with the labours of his predecessors. This knowledge is surely the smallest part of the duties of an editor.
I remember reading, some years ago, in the writings of old Zarlino (an Italian author of the sixteenth century), an amusing chapter on the necessary qualifications for a "complete musician." The recollection of this forcibly returns to me after perusing the following extract from the preface to a Collection of Ballads (2 vols. 8vo. Edinburgh, 1828), by our "simple" but well-meaning friend, "Mr. Peter Buchan of Peterhead."
"No one has yet conceived, nor has it entered the mind of man, what patience, perseverance, and general knowledge are necessary for an editor of a Collection of Ancient Ballads; nor what mountains of difficulties he has to overcome; what hosts of enemies he has to encounter; and what myriads of little-minded quibblers he has to silence. The writing of explanatory notes is like no other species of literature. History throws little light upon their origin [the ballads, I suppose?], or the cause which gave rise to their composition. He has to grope his way in the dark: like Bunyan's pilgrim, on crossing the Valley of the Shadow of Death, he hears sounds and noises, but cannot, to a certainty, tell from whence they come, nor to what place they proceed. The one time, he has to treat of fabulous ballads in the most romantic shape; the next, legendary, with all its exploded, obsolete, and forgotten superstitions; also history, tragedy, comedy, love, war, and so on; all, perhaps, within the narrow compass of a few hours,—so varied must his genius and talents be."
After this we ought surely to rejoice, that any one hardy enough to become an Editor of Old Ballads is left amongst us.